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Chatting with an Ancient, Pt II
Log Title: Chatting with an Ancient, Pt II Characters: Cuffs, Katie, Marcie, Denise, Trojan Perspective: Trojan Location: Nevada Desert, just outside of Metroplex Date: 12/17/09 TP: Non-TP Summary: Cuffs, Katie, Denise and Marcy get to chat a little with Trojan...' '''Log:' Nevada Desert - North America Off the beaten path, one of the many Nevada deserts uninhabited by communities. It is a large stretch of land, miles and miles around. There is no build up here; no houses, no factories. In the center of it all, accessible only by a treaded dirt highway, well worn by constant travel, is a large metallic city. To the east of the city runs a river, grasses and trees thriving along its banks. To the west are mountainous rocks and canyons. Behind it are large open flats. This area is governmentally restricted to civilians, a fact enforced by the constant Autobot security patrols. Cuffs comes striding out of the base, a somewhat puzzled frown on his face It is now her second day of waiting. Thankfully, the security detail is considerably less threatened by this new entity - she's now more of a curiosity. Word has likely traveled up the vine about the ancient Autobot... monstrosity, for lack of a better word. Nonetheless, Trojan is still, reticent, and has yet to do more than wander around the immediate area - only to return to where she originally sat. ;Cuffs Twenty three feet tall and eight feet wide, this steel robot bears a frame that is heavy set and sturdy. Like an immobile statue, the thick and boxy frame still clings frantically to faint sleekness and graceful, gentle curves. The metal is burnished, polished and reflecting the colors of the terrain around him constantly. The only interruption is two ribbons - one of yellow, one of dark blue, that stripe him. One of each, varying in width as they travel the course of his frame. His helmet is smooth and round, and a tinted visor covers his entire upper face to just above the tip of his nose. A mouth pleats the dull grey faceplate beneath, and a hue of blue shines from under it. Not far below on his window-framed chest was a yellow and blue autobot sigil, kept immaculate and scratch free. Upon his wide shoulders bears a pair of wide, sleek fins that are reminiscent almost of an airplanes' wings, though they lack the elevators of a true flyer. Attached to his left arm is a large, curved shield with mirrored blue and yellow striping on either side, and the top bears reinforced glass. Curiously, two windshield wipers also grace the visor of the shield, which was printed with the Autobot sigil once more, and three large Cybertronian letters in blue and gold: ICP. Cuffs focuses, seeing Trojan there as he tilts his head. How puzzling. He turns to make his way over "... Hello Autobot. Can I ask for your name?" It's hard to miss her. At 119', the only thing larger around her right now is Metroplex. She is keen and observant, watching the coming and going of the different bots as they continue about their duties. So it's no surprise that Cuffs is thusly spotted; his... forwardness is somewhat unexpected. The Dryder lifts herself with a groan of ancient alloy. Eerie eyes burn pale, irradiated green, and they gaze down at the other mech with some consideration. From somewhere within the depths of her massive frame, a cacophony of voices, both male and female - predominately the latter - gives rise to a disharmonious reply. "Good EvEN-inG," the gruff translation comes. "I am Tro-JAHn." Cuffs blinks and stares at her a little more "... A pleasure, I think." he states "Are you here on a specific assignment, or just to join our forces here?" ;Trojan Spawned from madness and twisted into a ghoulish form by some eldritch, cosmic horror, the very presence of this ghastly mech brings forth some primal, frigid terror. At 119' long from tip of a scorpion-stinger tail to the top of her head, this mech resembles a six-legged, four-armed battleship gray dryder instead of the classic bipedal mech. Six arachnidan legs, girthy and boxy at the base of a jagged ovular abdomen end in lethally sharp points. A long tail ending in a giant metal spike curls in a menacing arc high up over her head, while a trio of sharp metal fangs click and clasp just at the fore. The torso is decidedly of feminine persuasion, and in that the humanoid similarity ends: She bears two sets of arms, with the lower pair ending in a savagely tined melee weaponry - a flail and a mace, respectively. The upper set of arms are hulking and boxy, ending in fists even larger, with two massive spiked pistons protruding from the elbows. Set between two risen shoulder guards is her head, both veiled and protected by slats of metal, masking a grim visage and a pair of two eerily toxic irradiated eyes. Meshed within the ultra-dense armor, one could swear they could make out bits and pieces of other, less fortunate mechs - at least two dozen or more. The gray, crushed appendages and bodies scrape, grind, and creak, as ancient mechanical faces with lidless, lifeless eyes seemingly whisper omens of grisly death from metal lips that do not move... "...That ISsss InteresssTINg Quess-tion," the voices ring in an eerie din. "For.. a interesssting sssET of CcsssircumSSstaNCE." The giant Mech continues to loom over Cuffs, and even leans forward enough to get a closer look at the smaller mech. With even so simple a move, there are grating plates and moans of metal that echo from throughout Trojan's frame. Cuffs stares up at her still, not moving a single muscle. But his riot face-shield slides down out of unconcious reflex, a clear high-strength as he nods once more "Oh really? Can I ask what those are?" he asks cautiously. Katie, meanwhile, drives in the direction of the city idly, not aware of anything going on really at the city itself. "IF you Hhave tIME, I will tell you," Trojan hisses, sussurantly. "I ahm frOM Crys-TAHL Csssity, before itsss DessssTRUC-shun ssso many revoLU-shunssss ago," she explains to Cuffs, as her body lowers a touch. "Like Sssso many, I wasss... one that fled Cssssyber-TRON when ConssstrucTI-consss came. One of tHE Lasssst to flee, the only Sshship left wassss a ssscout vesssel." Cuffs blinks at this, astonished at first. He nods as he listens "And now you have returned." he murmers softly "Go on." Cuffs blinks then as he looks down at his radio "Damn. Sorry, my boss is calling me. Catch you later if I can." he notes, wanting to hear the rest "...Only jusssst arrived from being... in sssspace Millionssss of yearss." Ahhh. So that's the peculiar circumstance. Red Alert isn't sure of her identity, after being MIA for so long. Cuffs nods "I see. Sorry to cut this shot. I'll want to hear the rest later if you are still waiting.," he notes. Katie gets close to range of the city and... uh... well, slows her pickup down when she sees the giant... whatever it is, outside the gates. She pulls her pickup to a stop in fact, before inching closer very slowly and quietly, curious to see what's going on. "Go, atteND to Chief. He issss... unfriendly for Auto-BAHT." Poor... um. Femme-mech. Trojan bobs her head once, the only motion so far that hasn't caused a creak or moan of metal. "He's unfriendly for everyone. Its just how he is." reassures Cuffs, somewhat sa he turns to jog quickly back into the city Oh, this should be interesting. The security detail exchanges worried glances as Katie pulls up; before they can do or say anything, Trojan has already taken notice. One would think such a monster would be slow, but Trojan proves that theory quite wrong as all of those arachnidian legs thunder against the earth, metal grinding in unholy, ear-bleeding pitches. The Dryder has turned about, and has leeeeeeeeeaaaaaand down almost flat against the earth, to turn those bleeding-toxic eyes at whatever is *inside* the little pickup. And those optics squint. Katie's eyes widen, meanwhile, as she's leaned in and looked at like that. She pulls in a breath, and reminds herself where she is. If it was dangerous, Metroplex would already be firing. Unless he was already disabled, or... her mind becomes more washed with things that might be wrong. The truck comes down to a stop anyway, as she looks back up. The pair of cards fumble, panic, and then flag their arms at Tasinia, one calling to the giant mech about 'it being alright' and 'that's a friend', but Trojan's already figured. Kind of like Katie has already given in scenario, if the biological creature or the mechanical toy - most everything's toy-sized to Trojan - were dangerous, Metroplex would already be firing. This study between two vastly different entities of vastly different ages goes on for several seconds, until Trojan has formed an opinion of what she's seeing. "...WhAT... are you, little one?" hisses that giant nightmare, in unmelodious dischord. Katie blink blink blinks, eyes still bugged out wide. She hears the voice, has a few flashing images of things that can't possibly exist, and looks up towards the giant dryad, making a dry swallow, and speaking in... something of an unnerved voice, as she rolls her window down. "Er...hi... I'm Katie... I mostly came to see if everyone here was okay, I hadn't been here in a while, and..." She gulps again, quite audibly. "Er.... you're new here, I take it?" Denise and Marcie aren't faring too much better in the back either, eyes wide and bodies drawn back against the back glass. "Yesssss," the giant hisses. The security guys are nervous, too - hell, what could *they* do besides yell at Metroplex should this peculiar alien decide to become agitated? Oh, there are twins in the back seat? With a serpentine writhe, Trojan's body has repositioned so those eyes are now looking in through the front window. "ISssss Kay-TEe... a name, or a thhhiNG?" Katie blinks up a little at that. The twins widen their eyes as well, getting ready to do anything they can think of, including die with dignity, if it comes to it. "Uh... it's a name. The two in back are my daughters, Denise and Marcie..." "...WHat, isssss... a DAHT-er?" So far, Trojan only appears invasively curious. Still a technical mech at heart, this new life form is certainly intriguing. "...Ex-CUSsssse me. My name isssss Tahsssinia Tro-JAHN," the voice continues to rake across several modulations. Katie uhms.... "Well, we're not quite like Cybertronians here, they don't build new people, it's a longer and different process." She nods just a little bit at that, even if the voice is still panicking a litle bit from the sound, trying to offer a nervous smile. "A.. uh... pleasure to meet you,. Miss Trojan." She nods just a little, trying to get herself to agree with it as much as anything else. Yep. A pleasure. She glances in the mirror to the girls, who try to smile as well. There are about a thousand questions that arise, but Trojan keeps them in check. For now. "Iffff you are in hassssste," the creep-factory conjectures, although her wording isn't quite correct, "Thhhen do NOT let me hold... you hhhere. Can assssk more quesssstions of ssssecurity-men." Katie ehms... and shakes her head just a little bit at that, raising her eyebrows a little bit. "Er... I'm not in a hurry, actually." She hrms a litle bit and raises her eyebrows a little. "You are new here, then? Hmm." She smiles just a little bit. "Well, welcome then..." She ponders. "Have they not let you in the city yet, though? Or..." Katie does, in fact, open the door to get out of the truck and be seen better, as well. "The sssseCURity Chief... he issss more like DecssssepticAHN." Trojan lifts herself from the earth, and strides in reverse a single step - which is sufficient to carry her quite a distance when you're 119' tall. It isn't enough to put her out of conversational range, however, especially when she leans back over. "HE pointssss weaponssss at me, whhhen I am eassssy tarrrGET for City DeFENSsssesss. Assssksss me quessstionsss when he hassss alreaDY ver-i-fied. Ssoo am not aLLOWed insssssiDE," the voice drones in devilish disharmony. Katie cringes just a little at that and considers it. "Red Alert. He's... yeah, I've heard plenty about him." She shakes her head a little bit and sighs, laughing just a little. "He needs a bonk on the head from someone once in a while. Figuratively anyway. Need to find someone above him, especially if things were already confirmed." "Mosssst thingssss have rootssss..." speculates the monstrosity, the insightful nature and the cacophonic voice of half a dozen departed mechs giving the weight and bore of an age-old forgotten deity of death. "He issss who he issss beCAHssse of sssssomething that hassss hapPENed..." Trojan's upper torso lowers a little more, until her metal-slat 'visor' is practically level and her chin nearly upon the ground. Katie hmms a little bit and nods slightly. "Maybe so, I'm sure there have been problems in the past with infiltrators and whatnot. Probably before current security measures and whatnot were implemented. He's been around for a long time, from what I know of it. Not that I know much, I haven't been around that long. But if it's something that happened ages ago, and things have improved, I don't see it as being completely a reason to t ake it out on others, either." "It isssss who he isss, KayTEE. He ssssaid before dePARTing The Night beFffore that whhhen hhhe ReLAXessss, Auto-bahtssss die. I am ttthinking guilt... drivesss him, or ssssome ffffailing," muses Trojan, as her head turns and her body pivots with a terrifying creak; she's looking inside the truck again at the twins. "I do not blame Omega Ssssupreme for what hhhhapPENed to CrrryssssTAHL Csssity," she appends. Katie nods just a little bit at that and considers it. "Something like that, probably, yes." She ponders that and nods, considering it. "True enough. Being understanding of things like that will certainly be in your favor. Need more people who are able to understand others like that." She smiles more then. The twins blink nervously as the truck is peered into, but then consider that their mother is talking to the big bot, so they climb out as well. Give Trojan some time to study the twins. Time in silent introspection, where the giant mech seems to cease any and all motion. Not a single creak, peep, or groan, not a quiver or shift - as still as a statue. The only change is reflected in those giant, bleeding-toxic optics, that pulse in gradual transition from green to blue, and back again. "DAH-ters are ideNTi-cahl," the ghastly voice wheezes, thoughtfully. "Thhhhey sssshare likeNESsses with Kay-TEE. KayTEE hasss made DAH-ters?" Denise and Marcie blink at the studying, looking up as a single unit the way they do, their own eyes blinking once as they're seemingly put under a microscope. They smile though, and try to be friendly as they answer. "Well, it took us a few years to get to look like our mother. Plenty of growing to do." They laugh just a little, thinking. "We would suggest looking on Wikipedia, some other bots know how to get on it, but... if you do not have access yet, that could prove difficult. And some have been rather shocked by the answers it gives." "Whhhhat issss a ...wikEE-PEEEd-iah?" the Autobot asks sussurrantly, seemingly more puzzled and having more questions now than before. But, she rights herself, with all the unpleasant scrapes and groans ancient metal can supply. "I have much to lEARN about thisssss planet." Yes, she does. The truck has now won that speculative gaze, since it doesn't classify as Cybertronian. It begs her to ask, too, while pointing with one gi-normous finger. "What isssss thissss?" Denise and Marcie pause just a little, and answer in unison, per normal, a little sheepishly. "Well... It's mostly an information source for people to learn about things, it's pretty good for someone who hasn't been here long but understands the language, though not all the information is completelty reliable, since it has everyone editing it always..." They ponder. "Yeah, you should mention it to someone, we aren't sure how to get it through an Autobot communication system, or we'd tell you." They raise their eyebrows then. "That's mom's truck. Just what we use to get around from place to place. We live half a continent away nearly..." "Ssso pee-pahl do not have diffffferENT ffformssss...?" Yes, this is going to take some adjustment of perspective. Earthanoids appear fragile, make each other, do not have alternate modes, rely on machines for transportation, and talk in unison when they look alike. Trojan is fascinated. Oh, how she yearns to be a much smaller Mech, so she could actually touch one of these humans without breaking one. She'll have to mind her step. Denise and Marcie shake their heads a little bit. "Nope. Start small, grow bigger, but just stay bigger." They smile and shrug just slightly. "You okay?" Just wait. Trojan is going to end up collecting creepy goth dolls and bizarre plushies. "Am Nom-in-AHL, Den-eeSSe and Mar-SSSEEE." she contends. Denise and Marcie nod just a little bit and smile. "well, if you're sure. Anything else in particular you'd want to know, that we might be able to tell you?" Heh. Give an ancient mech an invitation to any question, expect an eldrich or inspired answer. It just takes her a thoughtful cant of her head and several seconds to process. "...Ev-Ree Sssocssiety hassss itsss bardsss and hissstor-IANsss," the disembodied voices wheeze into a quiet crescendo. "If... there wasssss one ssssingle record, acc-ount, or versssse that could ssssum up Earth and itssss people, from any ssssuch CRoniCALer who hassss lived, whhhat piecssse would that be?" They may want some time to think about that one. Denise and Marcie really ponder that for a few moments, scratching their heads and considering it. "A single chronicle? Hrm... Trick is there are lots of historians with lots of views on things that sometimes pop up. For some of the online stuff, Teletran might be able to glean a lot of it from wikipedia and other places, depending on how advanced its internet access really is..." They ponder a little bit. "Outside of that, the numbers of books tend to range into thousandsand thousands, and generally aren't all inclusive... Hrm... Trying to use a single source might end up distorting something or another as well, is another thing..." They think, still trying to process that, in any manner possible. Trojan simply inclines her head, beneath the metal protective slats. The answer was good enough to satiate the mech's curiosity, for now. "I un-DERsssstahnd." Denise and Marcie sigh just a little bit. "If there was one that would get it all right, we would tell you, but there have been so many phases and factions within the history that it's complicated." Category:2009 Category:Logs